I'm Afraid There Has Been An Accident
by magicalunicorn000
Summary: A story written for the WonderBat 100 Themes Challenge prompt #15: Miraculous. I won't give away too much in summary but lots of WonderBat ahead.


**I'm Afraid There's Been an Accident**

 **Wonderbat story for the Wonderbat 100 themes challenge created by fyeahwonderbat on tumblr. The prompt was #15- Miraculous. This took a very angsty turn so... hahahaha enjoy. Also heads up in this universe all the bat kids are alive and well... as they SHOULD be.**

 **Theme 15 - "Miraculous"**

 **...**

Alfred and I maneuvered around each other throughout the kitchen, preparing a delicious meal, as was our typical routine every Friday night, when I had no duties at the museum nor at the Hall of Justice. Tonight I was showing Alfred how to make tyropitakias, savory Greek cheese pastries, while Alfred showed me how to make jerk chicken with rice and red beans. It was a bit of an eclectic meal but one we both enjoyed making regardless. And I could already tell it was going to be delicious as I had snuck a few tastes between steps.

Alfred side-eyed me from his position at the stove and admonished, "You are as bad as Master Dick when he would help me in the kitchen."

I laughed, "What can I say? Bruce always said I was a child at heart."

"Well, never change then. People grow up too fast in this world." Alfred sighed.

I smiled, a bit more pensive this time, as I sensed Alfred was talking about his own adopted son, and my own husband, and how fast Bruce had been forced to grow up due to the circumstances life thrust upon him.

"Though he has been significantly less gloomy since you've arrived Miss Diana, in fact, both of us have, and for that I will be eternally grateful." Alfred smiled warmly at me.

I returned his smile, "I'm glad I can make everyone so happy."

The chime of an alarm that alerted us that a car had entered the driveway signified to both Alfred and I that a certain less gloomy man was almost home.

"Speak of the devil!" I chimed up, excited Bruce was finally home. Because of our greatly differing schedules, I hadn't actually seen my husband in over a week, and was glad to finally be able to see him again.

"I can finish up the rice here, if you want to greet him?" Alfred raised an eyebrow at me indicatively.

"Are you sure? I can keep helping." I offered.

"Helping or eating? Go on now, I know you have been dying to see him." Alfred insisted.

I laughed at his comment, then proceeded to hang my embroidered apron, a funny birthday gift from Jason, who thought it would be hilarious for me to have a wonder woman costume apron, but little did he expect I would actually love it and I wore it every time I cooked.

As I was making my way to the front door to greet Bruce, a knock on the door threw me off guard.

I turned to face Alfred and found we had the same thought.

"Bruce doesn't knock." I exchanged a worried glance with Alfred, and we both began to make our way to the door, Alfred with a hefty butcher's knife in tow. I guess with everything he has seen, he couldn't be too cautious answering the door to a stranger.

Another loud knock permeated the now deadly silent atmosphere of the house, and as I placed my hand on the door handle to open it, Alfred hung back out of sight with a death grip on the knife.

I slowly peeked my head around the door as I opened it, and was surprised to find two Gotham City Police officers with solemn looks on their faces. My heart started to race as I opened the door fully and stood before the two officers. Why were they here? Every possible worst case scenario ran through my head. I imagined dead bodies. Bodies of any one of the children. I saw Dick and Jason, Tim and Cass, Damien, Steph, Barbara, and more names ran on loop through my head. But never did I expect what the officers said next.

"Mam? Is this the house of Bruce Wayne?"

My heart genuinely must have stopped for a second, as I nearly whispered, "Yes, he - he's my husband."

The officers looked between each other, as if determining who would give me the news, when finally the one on the right removed his hat and explained, "Mam, I am afraid there's been an accident."

I didn't hear the explanation as to what had happened. All I could hear was a deafening white noise, like the loss of hearing that comes after you stand a bit too close to an explosion. A ringing in my ears that effectively blocked out all my other senses.

I was an experienced warrior. And that was an understatement. I am great under pressure. I can disarm a thousand villains in a minute if it means a timed bomb won't explode. But in this situation, I freeze, and I can't think. Why?

I don't remember how I got to the hospital. I think Alfred must have driven me, because he is here too, two paces ahead of me. I follow him as if in a trance. He exchanges words with a nurse at the front desk of the hospital, but all I can hear are muffled voices, no words. Alfred turns to me and ushers me forward with his hand, and I continue to follow him, still in my trance.

He stops in front of a door, and is about to go in, when I stop. And the white noise stops. And suddenly I realize where I am. I am standing in front of the door which will lead me into the room where my husband lays, probably dying. And I don't think I can face that. My vision starts to blur, and I put my hand to my cheek, and realize its wet. I'm crying. I look down at my hand, my tear continuing to roll down my palm and onto my wrist, until it drops and falls on the floor. I stare for a minute until I realize Alfred in calling my name.

"Miss Diana?" He prods again.

"You go in." I tell him. "I need - I need coffee." I lie, still staring at my tear on the floor.

"Miss Diana, are you..."

"I'm fine." I lie again. "You go. I'll be there in a second." Alfred looks skeptical, but he turns after a minute and goes in, leaving me in the hallway.

I continue to stand in place in the hall, feet planted, staring blankly ahead, and all I can think about is the first time Bruce told me he loved me.

...

I lay on Bruce's chest, as we both lounge on the couch in the library.

Once in a miraculous moment, neither of us have work, and we were taking advantage of it by doing absolutly nothing for once, but doing nothing together.

His hands tangled themselves in my hair, and brushed it out.

The sun was setting outside, and a beautiful orange glow coming in through the large glass windows gave the books around us a pleasantly warm aura.

He said it casually, as he nodded off to sleep, with me laying over his steady beating heart.

"I love you, you know that right?"

Of course he would say it like that. Like it was known scientific fact. Like it was something everybody just knew.

But it still made me smile. I turned my head so that my chin now rested on him.

"I was somewhat aware." I teased him, and he smiled lazily at me.

It was rare to see him so open, so warm, and so relaxed. I inched myself up along his neck, until I was face to face with him, and he followed me lazily with half-lidded eyes, continuing to rub light circles into my hip and lower back.

"You know I love you too?" I offered with a slight rasp in my voice, my hand resting on his cheek, my thumb moving slowly back and forth.

"I'm glad." He smiles, taking my hand in his own, and pulling me closer to him with his other, kissing me softly.

...

I am brought back to the present when a gurney with a profusely bleeding teenage boy is rushed past me, doctors yelling commands at one another to get more O-, to prop his head up, apply pressure to the wound. I simply stare after them. I wonder if that was what Bruce looked like when they brought him in.

I don't like to see him like that. It only reminds me of the inevitability that is his mortality, and that one day, I am going to have to watch him die. I am going to be left alone, all over again.

Maybe that is why I don't- why I can't go into his room now. Why I just stare at the door handle but can't put my hand around it. For once in my life, I am not strong enough to face something. If he dies, I know I will be broken. More broken than I already am.

"Mom?"

I quickly wipe the tears from my cheeks as I turn to face the voice I recognize as Dick Grayson.

"Hi." I try to smile but all that comes out is a quick, breathy sob. Dick quickly envelopes me in a hug. Over the years I have come to treat him as my own child, and he has come to see me as he would a mother. Something that normally overjoyed me, but at the moment, brought me only sadness for us both, and our potential loss of a father and husband.

Dick broke away from the hug, but continued to hold me by my shoulders. "What happened?" He inquired softly.

"I- I don't know.." I answered truthfully. Fresh tears rolled down my cheeks as I recalled, "The police told me there was an accident, but I think I went into shock after that. They explained what happened but I couldn't hear them."

Dick squeezed my shoulders, "It's okay. We'll go find out. Come on." Dick held tight to my hand and began to pull me towards Bruce's room, but I stopped him.

"No!" I yelled, a bit too loudly. He turned to look at me, startled by my exclamation.

I covered my outburst and said, "I-, I'll wait, for everyone else. Make sure they know where to come." I lied for the second time that night.

Dick paused, looking into my eyes, seeing right through me and realizing my fear, "Mom, he would want you..."

"I'll come in. Eventually. I just, I need time." I tried my best to smile at him. "Go." I squeezed his hand, and urged him in.

"Alright." Dick relented, "But I will come back out for you when you're ready."

I simply nodded. Dick disappeared into Bruce's room.

I am again left staring at the foreboding wooden door, feet planted, eyes locked ahead, and I remember the first time Bruce took me on a date.

...

Bruce and I had developed a tradition of walking around the lake behind his house, talking mostly business, but after he had finally invited me out on a date, we had expanded our repertoire.

"So you trained behind your mother's back for years?" Bruce inquired after I told him about my childhood on Themyscira.

"I was determined to be a warrior, just like my fellow sisters. No one could stop me."

"Don't I know it. You do not respond well to people telling you that you can't do things." Bruce chuckled to himself.

"Especially when I can do those things."

"Which is most everything." Bruce added.

"Is that a tone of admiration from you, Bruce Wayne?"

"I reserve my admiration for admirable people. And you? Yes, I certainly admire you." Bruce turned to me, his signature smirk playfully pulling at his lips.

I couldn't help but look at him with my own playful smile.

Bruce then took my hand in his own, taking me by surprise. He continued the surprise, as he said, "Come on, I want to show you something." I followed behind him, intrigued, and holding tight to his calloused yet comforting hand.

Bruce led me through a particularly thick part of the forest, all the while checking back on me, as if to reassure himself I was still with him.

"Watch your step here." He pointed out a large fallen tree in our path. He let go of my hand to hurdle over the obstacle himself, then turned to help me. I quirked an eyebrow at him. He grinned, "I know you don't need help, princess, but I am being romantic, so, take my hand?"

I jumped effortlessly on top of the log, and rolled my eyes at him. Eventually however, against my better judgement I took his hand. He placed his other hand around my waist and eased my jump down off the tree and onto the crunchy leaves below. He held onto my waist for a few seconds longer than necessary, simply smiling at me, and staring smugly, yet contentedly into my eyes.

I cleared my throat, and tilted my head to the side as I reminded him, "You wanted to show me something?"

"Right, follow me." Bruce kept his hand locked in mine, and began to lead me up a steep hill, still covered in thick deciduous trees, bathed in silver moonlight, and casting dark shadows on the forest ground around us.

Finally, we reached the top of the hill, and the view that greeted us was absolutely breathtaking.

I had seen Gotham at night before, but never from this view. The city skyline stretched for miles before us. Bright white and yellow lights from various skyscrapers reflected onto the black bay water below. A light breeze blew up from the cliff on which we stood, blowing my hair around my face, and I laughed happily.

"It's beautiful." I almost whispered.

Bruce looked at me, then back at the city pensively. "It's easy to forget from this view, all the bad things I have seen go down in the streets there. Looking at Gotham from this point of view, I can imagine a city where evil is nonexistent, where the residents get along, where there are no starving children, or morally corrupt gangsters. From here, it looks so peaceful, and quiet, you would have no idea its the complete opposite."

I looked at him. This man who had dedicated his entire life to preserving peace, and fighting for justice in the city that had shown him nothing but hatred and trauma. A man who, despite everything he had seen and experienced in this world, was still able to be hopeful for the future, to believe in the good in man. And I realized, definitively, at that moment, that I loved this man. That if anyone could help me to remember to have hope in such a godforsaken world, it was him.

I stared in admiration at him as he continued to watch over his city. He finally turned, and he realized I was staring at him.

"What?" He smiled at me.

Without a second thought, I stepped closer to him, and brought my hands to frame his face lovingly. He continued to smile at me, and I smiled back, before I brought his lips down to my own, and kissed him for the first time. He was obviously surprised, as he didn't react the first few seconds, and then, once he recovered from the surprise, he returned my kiss with equal fervor, wrapping his own arms around my waist and shoulders, pulling me even closer to him. I felt the safest, and happiest I had been in years.

...

I had somehow found myself sitting in the hospital waiting room chair outside Bruce's room. All of Bruce's kids had come at one time or another, tried to get me to go in, and failed. Two hours had passed since I first arrived at the hospital.

Some members of the board at Wayne Enterprises arrived to offer any help they could, as well as to comfort me and the rest of the family. I didn't really hear any of it. I had zoned out again, lost in my own thoughts and my own nightmares.

Finally, Clark arrived with Lois and a bouquet of flowers.

"D? How is he? What happened?" Clark prodded, worried.

"Sweetie, why don't you go see Bruce?" Lois looked at me, recognizing my own look of hopelessness and despair, as something she had experienced in the not too distant past.

Clark looked between myself and Lois, reading the situation, and finally relented and went in through Bruce's door. But not before placing a comforting hand on my shoulder, and giving it a light squeeze. Lois made her way to sit in the chair beside me. Lois and I had managed to become close friends over the years. We often shared a cup of coffee and a scone together before heading to work, and we often forced our respective partners into going on double dates. She knew me and my situation well enough to know what I was thinking.

"How bad is it?" She asked frankly, always the journalist.

I continued to stare down at my own feet, elbows resting on my knees, head down. "I- I don't even know." At this, I broke. I hadn't even gone to see him because of my own weakness, my own fear. I didn't even know how hurt he really was. I released several sobbing cries from where I repressed them in my throat.

Lois placed a comforting arm around me, placing her head on my shoulder, and squeezing my body into hers.

"Diana. I know you're scared." She mumbled. "Given your history, your experience in this world, you have every right to be." She paused. "But Bruce is waiting for you."

She continued, "Here is the thing, Diana. Bruce isn't dead. He is in there. And I don't know how badly hurt he is. But I do know one thing. He loves you more than anything in this world. It's obvious in the way that he looks at you when you're not looking, it's in the way he smiles when someone asks him about you, it's in the way he talks about you to friends and family. That man loves you so incredibly much. And he is in there right now, waiting for you. When you stood before him and your hundreds of witnesses on your wedding day, you promised him you would be there, sickness and health, life and death. Now is when you make good on that promise."

"I can't." I confessed, voice cracking. "I can't watch him die. I'm not- I'm not strong enough."

"Tell him that." Lois argued. "Go in there. Tell him that you refuse to let him die on you today. Tell him you don't want to live in a world without him. Or say nothing. But just be there. You will regret it if you aren't. You'll always think about the words you wanted to say."

I looked at her, and realized she was thinking about when Clark died, how she wished, even though he did come back, that she would have had a few moments before he died to tell him all those things.

She stood up, and offered me her hand. I paused a moment and stared at it, before resolving myself to take it. She pulled me up to stand, and then wiped my remaining tears with her thumb, and led me to Bruce's door, but didn't force me to open it.

I took several deep breaths to compose myself, and prepared myself for blood, bruises, and broken bones. But when I finally did open the door, nothing could have prepared me for what I saw.

As I entered the room, all eyes turned towards me. But I barely noticed, as all my attention was turned towards the body in the hospital bed. Bled through bandages covered him from head to toe. A particularly reddened one wrapped around his stomach, and crossed over his heart. Black and purple bruises covered his arms and legs, and his left foot and wrist were covered in casts. Scratches covered his face and a majority of his right side. Stitches weaved in and out on various places on his body. An IV ran from his vein, and a vitals monitor by his bed told me though he was stable, his heart rate was low, even for him.

Dick stood up, and made eye contact with Jason, who received his silent signal.

Dick began ushering everyone out of the room with the help of Jason, Clark, and Alfred. There was no protest from anyone, as they all saw the tears escaping without my permission down the sides of my face, and I am sure they all needed a break from looking at Bruce so broken.

As Dick and Jason ushered the last person out, Jason turned back to me, "They're not sure he will wake up." He whispered.

Dick punched him in the arm, "You weren't supposed to tell her that, idiot!"

"She deserves to know!" Jason fought back. "It was a dirty bomb. One was released near Wayne Enterprises, and Bruce rushed out to help the victims, but realized too late that the perpetrators had set a second bomb to go off and attack the people who rushed to the scene to help. He was thrown into a building, which broke his wrist and leg, and the scratches are from shrapnel released by the bomb. A piece pierced through his liver, and they had to perform surgery. They got it out, and repaired the damage as best they could, but aren't sure he will wake up after experiencing so much trauma to the body. It's been some time since he got out of surgery." Jason explained solemnly. I nodded, letting him know I heard and understood him. My arms crossed over my chest, trying desperately to hold myself together.

Dick added, "But he could still wake up, we aren't giving up on him. I've seen him come back from worse."

"Yeah." I whimpered out weakly.

Dick and Jason took this as their cue to leave, and they shut the door, leaving me alone with my bloodied and beaten husband.

I stood staring at him for a few minutes, before slowly making my way to his bedside. The closer I got, the worse his wounds looked. I was scared to even touch him. I pulled up a chair to his bedside, worried that I would fall over if I stood any longer. I noticed that his right hand was not as bloodied as the rest of him, so I took it in my own.

"Bruce." I whispered, almost in a prayer to the Gods above.

"Bruce, you have to listen to me. I am your wife, so you have to listen, alright?" I pleaded. "Bruce, you are not going to die here and now, alright? We have too much to do together. I want to eat breakfast with you again. I want to see you smile at me, and tease me. I want to wake up in your arms again, and feel safe and warm and loved wrapped in you. I want to watch dumb movies with you. I want to look out at the cityscape with you on our cliff. I want to kiss you. I want to fight with you, and I want to make up with you. I want to fight evil with you, and knock together skulls." I laughed at my own admission. "Bruce, I want to have your children." I was surprised at this last admission. Children wasn't a conversation we had together explicitly. But maybe the fact that he was dying before me, and that the chance may slip from my fingertips forever, I realized I wanted to. I already was practically a mother to the children he had now, why not add our own.

As I looked at his closed and bruised eyelids, I continued, "I want to see you look at me again. I want to feel your hands in my hair, and on my back, and caressing my cheek. I want you. So listen to me, Bruce Wayne. You don't get to die on me. I-" My voice cracked. "I can't lose you. I won't survive." I took my other hand and placed it on his cheek, wiping away the dried blood there, and holding his face. "You can't make me love you, and then die on me, Bruce. I won't allow it. I love you too much to let you go now. So I refuse to let you die today."

Silent tears streamed down my face, as I placed my forehead on the back of his hand, and offered silent prayers to whatever God would listen.

"I love you too, princess." A raspy, weakened voice retorted.

I jumped at the familiar sound of Bruce's voice, and in utter disbelief, I jumped so suddenly that I knocked the chair I was sitting in across the room.

Alarmed at the noise, people began rushing into the room, and when they noticed Bruce awake and quite alive, a wave of relief and happiness flashed across the face of each person.

"Brucie! You're back!" Jason laughed, clapping Tim on the back. Tim was too ecstatic to admonish his brother.

"I never left. Just took a short rest." Bruce joked, attempting to sit up.

"Don't even think about it Bruce. You need rest." I ordered, placing a firm hand on his chest to hold him down, my authority, however, was greatly diminished by the tears that still rolled off my cheeks.

"Yes, princess." Bruce rasped, reaching a hand up to wipe a stray tear off my chin.

...

After an hour or so, with the doctors having confirmed that Bruce would with rest make a full recovery, people slowly began going their separate ways, until Alfred, Bruce and I were the only ones remaining.

Alfred stood, placing a paternal hand on his adopted son, and excused himself, saying "I think I may have forgotten to lock the door to the house when we left in such a rush. Are you comfortable staying here, Miss Diana?"

"Yes, I'll spend the night here, Alfred. Lois brought me a change of clothes. Thank you."

"Alright then. Master Bruce, it is good to see you miraculously survive another one. Please don't give us a scare like this again." Alfred fretted.

"Don't worry, I don't think Diana will allow it." Bruce gave his father his signature smirk.

"I don't think she will." Alfred agreed, smiling at the both of us, before exiting the room, closing the door behind him.

Bruce turned to me. "And then there were two." He smiled.

I squeezed his hand, then rose, "I'll change into more comfortable clothes, and then we should get some rest."

When I returned from the bathroom, in a white tank top and black cotton pajama pants, I noticed Bruce has scooted to one side of the bed, and set up a pillow for me to sleep on next to him in the hospital bed.

"Bruce." I admonished, raising my eyebrow at him. "You shouldn't have moved. I am fine sleeping in the chair." I moved slowly towards him.

"Are you kidding? I am not letting you sleep in a chair, princess. Come on." He grabbed my hand and attempted to pull me down into the bed, but I wouldn't budge. He noticed my hesitation, and continued, "You're not going to break me, Diana. I feel much better now."

I still looked at him skeptically.

"In fact," He continued, "I think I would feel better with you sleeping by me. So by not sleeping in my bed, you are hindering my health."

I simply rolled my eyes at this statement, but eventually, slowly climbed into the small bed with him, taking care not to jostle him too much.

"Diana, I am not a ticking time bomb, don't treat me like one."

"Don't say the word bomb, please." I begged, letting him wrap his good arm around my waist, and settling in to lie on his non-bandaged shoulder, my nose pressed into his neck, my hand resting over the bandages covering his heart.

"Sorry, too soon?" He laughed weakly.

"I'm serious Bruce. You almost died tonight, I don't find that funny." I noted seriously.

"Alright, I'm sorry." He apologized sincerely, rubbing my back gently.

We lay there in silence for a few minutes, simply enjoying each other's presence, before I broke the silence, saying, "Bruce?"

"Yes, Diana?" He mumbled back, eyes closed.

"You know I love you, right?" I asked, mirroring the first time he had told me he loved me.

Bruce opened his eyes at this, and turned to kiss my forehead, "Of course, I know that. And you know I love you too?"

"Yes. I do." I whispered into his neck. I tried to hold back my sobs, but eventually they escaped from me, and with them all the tears I had left. I broke down in Bruce's arms, a mess of sobbing and shallow breathing and tears.

And Bruce simply held me tightly, and repeated the comforting words over and over again into my ear, "I'm here, Diana, I'm here."

Once I had calmed down, and my loud sobbing turned into more controlled breathing, Bruce turned to look me in my now red and puffy eyes.

"So," He inquired, continuing to brush his fingers up and down my lower spine, "Do you really want to have my children?"

I laugh, lightly at first, and then much louder and freely.

"Did I say something funny?" Bruce asks, amused.

"Of all things, you would hear me say that." I laugh.

"Actually, I heard most of it, princess, and I have to say I was deeply moved." Bruce teased.

"Great, so I will be hearing about this for some time then?"

"Yes, but you'll also hear me saying nice things back." Bruce admitted, content with himself. "I love you Diana."

"I love you, Bruce." I mumbled into his neck. "Now get some rest."

"Yes, princess."

...

Author: So that was my fic for the prompt Miraculous! I know I never explicitly mention the theme in the story, I kind of took the theme and ran with it. lol. I was greatly inspired by Grey's Anatomy, so if you sense some Grey's in there, that's probably why, haha.


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